


Come One, Come All

by MyChemicalFallOutBoyRomance



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Band Fic, Black Parade Era, Black Parade Tour, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Frerard, Frottage, Gay Sex, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rikey, Shameless Smut, Smut, The Black Parade, Touring, auralism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:26:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17453711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalFallOutBoyRomance/pseuds/MyChemicalFallOutBoyRomance
Summary: Waiting to go on stage is dull. Sometimes you’ve gotta make your own entertainment!





	Come One, Come All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowhive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowhive/gifts).



> Hi sweeties!
> 
> So, look, I’m trying. I swear. It’s just... I’ve kinda been thinking I’m washed up lately and having much less confidence than usual in my shit *shrugs and kicks the floor* but I’m trying.
> 
> And some awesome people are helping me out of this funk. This fic is dedicated to one of them.
> 
> He not a big Frerard guy (yet... I’m working on him!) so the Frerard in this is minor and off screen. It focuses mostly on his favourite, Ray. So don’t read this if you don’t wanna read Ray/Mikey. Seriously. Don’t read it just to complain at the lack of Frerard. You can obviously leave me negative feedback if you think it’s shit but not because it’s something different to what I usually write. Anyway, Stuie, enjoy x

“That’s mine,” Frank says, voice bored as his eyes peek over the top of his book.

Gerard almost bursts with excitement, so relieved and pleased Frank has finally noticed him: he’s been preening and strutting up and down in front of the man, making louder and louder over exaggerated noises in a desperate attempt to make him look away from his novel.

“I know.” Gerard smiles wide, all his tiny teeth on show and his eyes bright.

“Then take it the fuck off,” Frank mutters before flicking his eyes back to the page.

“No,” Gerard holds his stripe clad arm out and twists it back and forth as he examines it, “I like it.”

Frank sighs, almost inaudible, and closes his book to calmly place it down on top of the dressing table. Ray gives Mikey a look from his side of the couch and he returns it with a half committed shrug.

“Gerard. Stop fucking around,” Frank’s voice is flat, steady; it’s the tone he uses when he’s trying to talk Gerard out of some mad idea or force him to sleep at 3am when he’s still bouncing around the tour bus.

“Make me,” Gerard responds, just as flat and his eyes locked with Frank’s.

“Take my jacket off,” Frank says each word separately, sternly like he’s talking to a child.

Gerard raises one perfectly arched black eyebrow and sticks out one hip, hand resting lightly on it. The mood shifts with the attitude pouring out of him now.

“Oh, Frankie, you didn’t not just speak to me like that,” Gerard sounds amused but there’s an unmistakable dominance there too.

“We don’t have time for this,” Frank answers, balling his hands into fists on his legs.

“You don’t,” Mikey adds from the couch, “we’re on in less than an hour.”

“Plenty of time for me to fuck Frank while wearing his stage jacket.” Gerard brushes at some imaginary dust on the collar. Frank whimpers, lower lip trembling just slightly.

“If you’re fucking at least do it in the other room,” Ray pleads, inclining his head full of curls towards the door to the adjoining dressing room.

Gerard doesn’t answer apart from a wicked smirk. Then he’s grabbing Frank’s hand, yanking him to his feet and smashing their mouths together.

“Out,” Mikey calls from the couch but they ignore him. Mikey rolls his eyes at Ray then gets up to drag his brother and band mate, still clutching each other and kissing passionately, over to the door. “Out,” Mikey repeats as he shoves them into the next room and slams the door, locking it for good measure.

Mikey counts down from five then laughs along with Ray when they hear Bob’s disgusted shriek from the other room, quickly punctuated by the rattling of the door handle.

“Fuckers! I was sleeping,” Bob shouts though it’s unclear which pair he’s addressing.

Mikey and Ray don’t bother to stifle their sniggers, not even when Bob pounds on the door. He gives up pretty quick and they hear him stomp through the room and out the main door.

“Think he’ll be back in time for the show?” Mikey asks. Ray is sprawled out on the couch now, his legs where Mikey was sat, looking completely unconcerned about their impending show in his band tee and sweatpants.

“Probably, it’s Bob.” 

“Point. Gotta piss.”

“Ever the charmer, Mikeyway,” Ray calls as Mikey flips him off and heads to the bathroom.

The bathroom is the one place Mikey feels most relaxed before a show. As well as a piss, Mikey takes the time to splash some cold water on his face, readjust his hair after the water makes a strand or two misbehave, consider in the mirror how he would look with a beard (too much like a hippy he decides) before finally running out of calming tasks and returning to the room.

He stops in his tracks when he swings the door open. Ray is standing up now. Pantless. Hands on his hips and Mikey’s stage jacket half fastened over his broad chest. It flares out at the bottom a little, well a lot, more than it does on Mikey but it highlights Ray’s thighs perfectly.

The edges of Mikey’s mouth turn up into a small smile and his eyes sparkle in that special way that makes Ray’s stomach flip. Sauntering towards his lover, Mikey flicks his eyes from Ray’s slightly unsure face to his thighs… oh, man, those thighs.

“You know,” Mikey says as he reaches out and tugs the bottom hem of the jacket, “there’s a reason they gave the beanpole the longest jacket.”

“I know, I know. You look better in it than I do.” Ray rubs his hands together anxiously. 

“So we playing the same sex game as my brother and his husband now?”

“Maybe.” Ray’s smile finally breaks through along with a flirty quirked eyebrow. “They’re right next door you know,” Ray adds in a low voice.

“So?” Mikey’s attempt at nonchalance falls flat since his shaking fingers still have hold of the jacket, making it tremble against Ray’s body.

“Come on. I know you, Mikeyway. Don’t pretend like hearing them doesn’t get you all worked up.”

Mikey opens his mouth to answer but Ray presses one strong finger against his lips to silence him. The sound of Gerard is just about audible through the wall, impossible to hear what he’s saying but his tone is dripping sex. Whenever he stops talking Frank murmurs something in response; sometimes he just moans.

“Alright, okay,” Mikey mumbles past Ray’s finger after too many long minutes of their secret listening. “It’s fucking hot, sue me.” Mikey tries for a casual shrug like it’s no big deal but his cheeks are blazing red.

“Tell me what you want,” Ray whispers, his tone more caring than demanding.

Mikey’s fingers slip off the material and over Ray’s skin, stroking and squeezing his thigh. 

“This.” Mikey’s other hand finds its way to Ray’s other leg, tracing over the tendons as Ray tenses his muscles. “These. Around me.”

Ray nods, shaking curls into his eyes, then laces his fingers with Mikey’s to guide him over to the couch. As soon as Ray moves to lay on the couch Mikey pulls off his clothes with a speed he only uses to obtain sex or hair products. Ray doesn’t even have a chance to open a button on the jacket before Mikey is climbing on top of him.

Hands buried in Ray’s hair, Mikey pulls their faces together, kissing his lover with his usual breathtaking intensity. Ray can only focus long enough to wrap his legs around Mikey’s waist before losing himself to the lips he loves so much.

“Fuck,” Mikey pants into Ray’s mouth as he flexes his thighs around Mikey’s bony hips. “I just… more.”

Ray squeezes again, making Mikey buck against him which makes both of them gasp. Mikey twists his fingers in Ray’s hair, kissing furiously as his hips pick up their own rhythm grinding against Ray.

With his legs pulled tight around Mikey, ankles crossing just above his ass, there’s not much Ray can do to return Mikey’s thrusts. Not that it matters, Mikey has got the angle just right and each slide of his cock against Ray’s sends sparks down both their spines.

It’s completely obvious that Mikey is holding back his moans; usually Ray kisses them right out of his mouth but he’s quiet today. It’s completely obvious why too.

“Do you not want them to hear you? Or are you still trying to hear them?” Ray breathes against Mikey’s ear.

“Both,” the word sounds like it’s torn out him, back arching as Ray kisses down his neck.

And they can be heard; above the rustle of material and slide of skin as Ray and Mikey move together, above their laboured breathing, there’s the clear sound of Gerard’s high pitched moans and Frank’s begging whimpers. Ray would rather hear Mikey groaning and muttering his name but he’d be lying if he said the sounds coming from the next room weren’t turning him on.

Ray runs one hand down Mikey’s back, calluses catching on every bump and notch of Mikey’s spine. He doesn’t stop when he reaches his ass, slipping his thumb between his cheeks and pressing the pad against Mikey’s hole.

“Jesus… fuck…” Mikey bites down on his lower lip but it doesn’t stop the tell tale grunt as his body stills and he cums hard.

Ray loosens his legs as soon as Mikey’s eyes have fluttered open and before he can question it or protest Ray is flipping them over, pinning Mikey on his back with all of his weight.

It’s faster now, Ray’s hips pumping more frantically than Mikey’s were. It’s smoother too, Ray’s cum slick cock sliding perfectly in the crease of Mikey’s thigh.

Mikey shudders as the buttons of the jacket drag over his sensitive skin, catching his nipple every so often and making him yelp. Ray looks like he’s about to apologise every time so Mikey keeps his tongue busy.

“Mikey,” Ray pants as he pulls his mouth away, “Mikes…” then he’s burying his face in Mikey’s neck to muffle his scream.

They stay like that, Mikey sliding his hands along Ray’s thighs as they both try to catch their breath. Ray’s eyes are still dazed when he sits up and Mikey doesn’t let him go until he’s had at least three more kisses.

“Oh shit,” Ray swears when he sits back on the couch. “There’s cum all over this.”

Mikey looks down where Ray is gesturing to see various white sticky marks on the hem of his jacket… the jacket he has to wear on stage in less than thirty minutes.

“Shit,” Mikey echoes.

“How do we clean it? What material is it? Shit!” Ray’s voice is climbing higher as he fumbles with the buttons to take the jacket off.

“Fuck knows. Shit.” Mikey pulls on his clothes as Ray finally gets free of the jacket. “Gee designed these, they were all his idea, he’ll know wh-“

Before Mikey can finish his sentence the adjoining door swings open. Gerard’s platinum hair is sticking out in every direction, he’s wearing only his black jeans that have been pulled on in a rush since they’re unbuttoned and the belt is swinging free. He’s got a fistful of Frank’s stage jacket and he’s shaking it in Mikey’s direction.

“Mikey! How the fuck do you get cum stains out of these?!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wouldn’t it have been amazing if I was obvious and vulgar enough to call this ‘Cum One, Cum All’?


End file.
